


Ambitions

by Pepper (Zalt)



Category: Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Challenges, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-03
Updated: 2019-03-03
Packaged: 2019-11-08 18:31:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17986424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zalt/pseuds/Pepper
Summary: This is an alternate take on the scene where Pryce first suggests a mutually beneficial partnership to Thrawn. In this universe, the parents of Governor Pryce did not move to Batonn, so she was not present when Creekpath happened





	1. Once

**Author's Note:**

> In response to this weeks friday fluff challenge on the Thryce Discord with the prompt "potatoes"; which I replaced with tubers for the purpose of sounding vaguely more starwarsy.
> 
> No beta, we die like meh.

The Pryce family mines had produced a steady, if unremarkable, quantity of ore of decent quality for as long as Arihnda could remember. Every few years a vein would taper off or hit an obstruction not worth circumventing, and then there would be a period of hard work and uncertainty until a new vein of sufficient promise was established.

They had gotten the first signs their current main vein was reaching its end of life more than a year ago, and had started exploring their options not soon after. But one by one, their secondary options had turned out not to be worth the effort and expense of full scale production. A few months ago, they had to let some of the workers go, and take up loans to finance exploration in the deeper and more inaccessible parts of the mines.

Arihnda had adjusted, spending less time working with her mother on bookkeeping and logistics, and more in the depths of the mines taking part in the surveys and exploratory drilling. It was hard work, physically and mentally, and she ended her long days exhausted and covered in grime and dust. Sometimes she made it out in time to see the last fading rays of sun set in the distance, but mostly only the uncaring stars above greeted her ascent to the surface. 

Most days, she had a quick shower, went through the necessary data-work for the day, then had a bland meal most consisting of the local tuber staple before collapsing into bed. And for every day, her frustration grew.

She carefully hid it from her parents, who were not doing well at all in hiding their worry about the current state of the family business. There were no promising finds, and the first installments on the loans were overdue. The lenders were impatient and her parents were spending as much effort and worry on renegotiating terms as they were on searching for ore. The last thing they needed was for her to complain to them about having to help out.

But secretly, when she had a rare moment of time to herself… she dreamed of a different future.

Today, her parents had retired for the night by the time Arihnda finished her last datawork. She reheated the last of the stew her father had made earlier, and ate it without noticing taste or texture while she flicked through the options on the holo. Historical drama, documentaries, news, entertainment, celebrity gossip… She paused at the latter, which was showing a summary the Ascension celebrations on Coruscant.

The commentator was exuberantly enthusiastic as one celebrity after another was caught on holo, and commenting on their clothing, their relationships, their past accomplishments and rumored futures. The crowds shown were happy and noisy and dressed in their most colorful finery, the celebrities dripping jewelry and posing dramatically for the holos in clothing that cost more credits than Arihnda could expect to see in a year. She watched the parade of smugly smiling people with a mixture of longing and disgust, and finally reached out to turn the holo off. 

Her hand paused at the last second, as the holo cut to another scene entirely. She recognized the silhouette of the Imperial Palace against the urban skyline of Coruscant. And then the commentators voice turned more grave, almost hushed, as the holo showed several somber vehicles coming to a landing by the Palace. The people leaving the vehicles were dressed in somber greys and blacks, the uniforms of high ranking military officers and planetary governors. Armed and armored soldiers lined the way from vehicles to the Palace entrance.

Arihnda was captivated. The commentator was explaining the rare honor bestowed on their Excellencies, as they had been granted audience with the Emperor himself. 

When the last of the arrivals disappeared through the gates to the Palace, Arihnda finally turned the holo off, a cooling piece of tuber forgotten on her fork as her thoughts lingered on what she had seen. This was the true core of power in the Empire, the people who really mattered. Not the holo-stars and celebrities in their gaudy outfits. No one would ever dare to pester a Grand Moff or Governor about overdue bills, or disrespect them to their face. They were the people who directed the fate of the entire Empire and altered the destinies of entire planets. They didn’t have to worry about day to day survival, or scrabble for scraps of respect and attention from the people who mattered. She could imagine herself among them, carrying the authority of the Empire as people spoke of her with hushed respect, the Emperor himself waiting to confer with her about the future of the Empire as she stepped proudly up the stairs..

The bit of tuber fell from her fork, startling her back into reality. The small kitchen in a rural home on an unimportant fringe planet, as far from the radiant center of galaxy as one could come both in the physical and metaphorical sense.

Dumping the rest of her meal and cleaning the plate, she then dragged her weary body to bed to catch a few hours of sleep before the next shift in the mine, and to dream disjointed dreams of looking out over radiant crowds from a throne so far above them that the people were no bigger than the colorful beetles found in the high grasses of Lothal.


	2. Twice

Commander Mitth’raw’nuruodo followed all the proper forms of respect as the Aristocras summarily dismissed him from their presence. Backing up the required number of steps before turning to leave the ornate chamber, he maintained the stoic demeanor appropriate of an officer of the CEDF, showing no hint of the turmoil inside. Not while in the presence of the Aristocras. Not while travelling back to what was, barely, still his ship. Not while greeting the members of his crew that he passed in corridors, or giving his second in command an update on the outcome of his not-quite-trial.

Not until he was alone in his quarters did he give in to the churning inside, slamming his hand against the wall hard enough to hurt. He wished desperately he had someone,  _ something  _ to fight to release the pent up frustration and embarrassment. These were feelings unworthy of a Chiss Warrior, of course. A warrior should not let personal sentiments get in the way of propriety and dignity and correct behavior.

He struck the unyielding wall again, then left his hand flat against it, fingers curling in as if half expecting the surface to yield to his grip. The momentary indulgence to emotion over, he closed his eyes and strove to find his center again.

This was not the first dressing down he had received. Possibly not even the harshest. But it was the most painful one. The barrage of accusations and barely disguised insults had been constant, untempered and uninterrupted. There had been no Syndic Mitth’ras’safis to buffer the blows, spending his political capital to protect his wayward brother from the worst of it. No covert deals in advance that left him assured the reprimands were more show than reality. He suspected Admiral Ar’alani had done her best, but as a fellow member of the CEDF she was under the same constraints against political interference as the rest of the expansionary defence fleet.

His frustration that the Aristocras were unable or unwilling to admit the necessity of his actions in preemptive defense of the Ascendancy tore at him, made worse by the nagging worry about the absence of Mitth’ras’safis. Of Thrass, the only member of his blood family that he remained close to. The only person in this galaxy who truly understood him, no matter their differences.

The Ascendancy was blind to its own weaknesses, content to huddle within a cocoon of its own making, ignoring the world beyond as dangers closed in on every side. By the time they woke up, it would be too late. Too late for anything other than scrambling into the boltholes and redoubts scattered through Ascendancy space, hiding in the manner of children pulling their bedclothes over their heads in the belief that any monsters of the night they could not see would not be able to see them in return.

Finally, he straightened, drawing a deep breath and carefully releasing the tension in his jaw and shoulders. He would save the Ascendancy, despite itself. Despite the Aristocras and feuding Families and impotently obedient CEDF. The Chiss would survive, as a race and a political entity. No matter what the cost would be to himself. No matter if he would never meet another person who understood his views or shared his burdens.

He would fight on, alone.


	3. Thryce

The _Chimaera_ had been recalled to Coruscant, and scuttlebutt in the Imperial corridors of power was that the blue alien in command of it would yet again be elevated by the Emperor. Less than a handful of people knew that his promotion would be to the lofty rank of Grand Admiral of the Empire.

One of that scant handful was Arihnda Pryce, Governor of Lothal. Gathering the threads of information humming through the tangled web at the heart of the Empire and sifting out the useful from the useless was her greatest strength, and what had made her an equal in power with Moffs and Governors with far more impressive bloodlines and bases of power. She might have started life as a mere miner's daughter from an insignificant planet in the middle of nowhere; but here and now she was on the way to being one of the most powerful people in the Empire. Knowledge was power, and Arihnda zealously expanded and guarded her hord of information, trading it deftly at just the right time to ascend another step of the ladder in the Imperial hierarchy.

The greatest barrier to further progress right now were the rebels swarming her province like annoying gnats, defeating them apparently beyond the feeble abilities of the sectors assigned defender, Admiral Konstantine. To progress, she needed to get rid of the rebels, to get rid of the rebels she needed someone of greater skill and vision. And she knew exactly who the right person for the job would be.

*

“Admiral Thrawn, welcome. I know how busy your schedule is, and that you have an eventful day ahead of you tomorrow. I am glad you could join me for a working dinner at such short notice.”

She escorted him to a table set for dinner for two, a private meal at the Governor’s residence on Coruscant. There was no need to mention the strings she had pulled to cancel his original plans for the evening, or the subtle pressures brought to bear to make him disinclined to turn her offer down.

“As you say, Governor Pryce.” A barely noticeable pause before he added formally. “Thank you for the invitation.”

As they sat down she briefly wondered that a man of such obvious intelligence and adaptability would be so badly adept at conforming to proper manners. But no matter -- she did not need him for his political skills.

“Quite an informal meal at such short warning, but we will have to make do. Please, help yourself, Admiral.” She gestured to the covered silver tureen on the table, and the somewhat incongruous bottles of Forvish ale. The meal was in no way a spontaneous thing -- she had spent extensive effort over several days to try to ferret out the Admiral’s tastes without alerting him or members of his crew to her intent. She idly wondered how long it would take him to deduce what had happened.

The Admiral looked as impassive as ever as he removed the lid from the tureen, using the matching ladle to help himself to a serving of the thick stew inside. Arihnda took it upon herself to pour ale for both of them before helping herself to her own portion. Forvish ale was an acquired taste, and she had put just enough effort into familiarising herself with it that she could tell good from bad and drink it without flushing red.

She speared a piece of tuber on her fork and ate it, and after a few seconds Thrawn followed suit with a forkful of his own meal. He was excellent at keeping his expression unreadable as usual, but she thought she could see just a hint of startlement as he got his first taste.

“I do hope it is not too strong, Admiral? One of my chefs happened to have some spices from the Unknown Regions, not too far from your first point of contact with the Empire. A touch too strong for most people, but the Imperial elite do love their exotic condiments. I hoped it might be familiar to you.” A truth, of a kind.

“It is not too strong, no.” He gave her a searching look, then returned attention to his food without further comment on her hypothesis.

Arihnda thought that was a good sign. She slowly nibbled a few pieces on her own, sticking to the pieces of tuber least lightly to have absorbed too much of the pungent spice. There was some limit to her play-acting abilities. She sipped her glass of ale, watching as Thrawn finished his meal. She knew he would not care for seconds, and put her glass down as he finished.

“I will get right to business, Admiral. Your victory at Batonn was impressive. Your brought the rebels down with speed and skill, humbling more senior Admirals who had failed to do the same.”

Thrawn had placed his hands on the table, plate empty but ale untouched. “My intention was merely to end the rebel uprising, Governor.”

That might even be true, though Arihnda doubted it. She continued. “That does not change the reality. You have made enemies in the upper echelons. And not just due to Batonn. It is no secret that your rapid rise through the ranks has caused… concern, among many.”

Thrawn’s voice remained controlled, almost disinterested. “Perhaps.”

Arihnda leaned forward a little. “This is not a reprimand, Admiral. The right people know your worth, and the immense good you can do for the Empire. These petty show trials, fraternal rivalries, and court martials are a waste of time for all of us. It is time for you to be given the authority to do what needs doing, when it needs doing. Beholden to none but the Emperor himself.”

There was a long moment of stillness, then Thrawn reached for his glass at last, drinking deeply before responding.

“What do you want, Governor?”

Arihnda permitted herself her first smile of the evening. “Allow me to show you.” She rose, gesturing for Thrawn to follow her.

He rose after a moment, walking with her over to the curved window occupying much of the circumference of the room, currently blinded against the lights of Coruscant. She activated the controls that let Coruscant fade into view. A riot of color and light that they looked down on from the elevated view of her residence in the heart of the Capital.

“This is the beating heart of the Empire, Admiral. And from here, all things are possible, to those with the right skills and ambitions and intentions. I know all of yours. You are the man the Empire needs now, to implement the visions of our Emperor on the battlefield. And I am the woman who can ensure that you get the resources you need, to our mutual benefit. Your political enemies will no longer be an obstacle. The only barrier left between ourselves and ascension to the power we need to ensure our visions come true is the matter, trivial for you, of ending the rebel menace in the Lothal province.”

“That is what I want today, Admiral. And after that, a close cooperation to our mutual benefit. You will find me the most useful friend you can have in the Empire. You will no longer have to waste your time on the trivial self-interest of small-minded people.”

“And if I decline your offer?” He looked down at her.

“Then your path will be thorny, but through no effort of mine, I assure you. You have held my attention since I first saw you at Core Square, and I would continue to watch your career with interest. But much time will be wasted for you, to get where you need to be. Regretful, but if I have to deal with the rebel insurgency with my current insufficient resources, I will be in no position to help you as much as I would wish.”

When he remained silent and thoughtful, she added.

“Think about it until tomorrow. I believe your upcoming ‘trial’ will be most informative, Admiral. And then we can speak again. Please give my suggestion thought until then. With our unique perspectives, we can bring something to the Empire than no one else can, creating a whole stronger than the sum of its parts.”

“I will take your suggestion under advisement, Governor. If you will excuse me?”

Arihnda nodded, and followed him to the door. As it closed behind him, she returned to the window to look out over the bright lights of a Coruscant night with her hands clasped at her back. Tomorrow, he would be Grand Admiral Thrawn and Tarkin would give him the Seventh Fleet, putting him in charge of cleaning up Lothal. She would prove her worth to Thrawn, as he would prove his to her.

The future was bright.


End file.
